


The Waffle Tragedy

by dustjacketduck



Category: Princess Tutu
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, F/M, I have photographic evidence, based off a true story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 12:43:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6907789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustjacketduck/pseuds/dustjacketduck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sure, she put too much oil in, but the chocolate chips were totally not her fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Waffle Tragedy

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a true story.

It was just waffles. They came in a box, with the instructions and ingredients and everything printed right there. Not even she, a notoriously atrocious breakfast cook, could screw this up!

Ahiru should have known it would go downhill from the very beginning, when she tried to pour the batter in the bowl, and ended up with a lightly-dusted countertop as well.

Next, she moved onto the flour, taking a one cup-sized measuring tool and dipping it in the bag.

“Don't you dare try to round that off. You've made enough of a mess with the dry ingredients already, you don't need to make more.”

Ahiru jumped with a squeak. “Ahhh, Fakir, you got up! ‘Bout time, too, cause I'm making breakfast, and you said you'd get out of bed if I did, cause you really need to work on stuff and everything… so yeah, I'm making breakfast and you can't stop me!”

He walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and peering in the bowl. His breath was warm and groggy on her shoulder, and she could feel her heart flutter.

“Hmm… I wasn't being serious you know. It's eleven o’clock. You must have already eaten.”

Her face heated. “Y-Yeah, but I wanted to make it for you anyway!”

“What are you making? Pancakes?”

“Waffles, actually. But aren't they the same thing, but you put waffles in the waffle iron?”

Fakir was silent for a second, unsure how to respond. But he eventually took a step away from her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Here. I'll help you.”

“Hey! I can do it myself!”

“Sure. You finish the batter. I'll get the waffle iron ready. And actually put cooking spray in, unlike the last time  _ someone _ tried to make waffles.”

“Heh… meanie! S-So anyway, I'll get the water and oil and eggs and stuff!”

She rushed around the kitchen in a flurry, getting the oil from one cabinet and the liquid measuring tool from another. Except their usual small glass measuring cup wasn’t there, so she grabbed the large, solid, orange one instead. Putting the water in went without a hitch. The oil on the other hand-

“Um, Fakir? How much is an eighth of a cup? Cause it isn't marked in the measuring cup, and there's nothing in the drawer.”

Fakir didn't even turn around. “Just hope and pray and pour some in.”

“Mmm, okay!”

So she did. And it didn't seem right to not completely cover the bottom of the cup in at least a thin layer of oil, so she covered it. Thinly. In  _ oil _ . And then poured the oil in with the rest of the batter.

Soon after that, all the rest of the ingredients were added and the batter all mixed up, and she called Fakir over to make sure she stirred it enough.

“Yeah,” he said. “That seems good.”

“And now we pour it in the iron?”

“Yea. But I wonder.. do you think we could put chocolate chips in it?”

Ahiru blinked. “Chocolate chip… waffles? I'm not so sure…”

He ruffled the hair on the top of her head. “It'll be fine. Come on.”

He walked to the fridge and came back with a handful of chocolate chips. And poured them in the bowl.

Ahiru gulped. Those chocolate chips did most certainly not look normal-sized. They weren't usually so… massive, were they?

But before she could say anything, Fakir stirred them in, then took a cup-full of batter and began pouring it into the waffle iron, spreading it in such a way that it only covered one half of it.

It was only a minute into the cooking when Ahiru swore she smelled burning. There was no smoke coming from the waffle iron, but she panicked anyway, flailing and quacking and squeaking and yelling, “Quick! I'll fan the fire alarm!” and doing just what she said.

“Fakir!” she moaned, waving her arms frantically in front of the alarm above her head. “It's the chocolate chips! I knew that was a bad idea!”

“What?” He snapped back, trying to turn on the stove fan. “No, the chocolate chips are fine! It's because you put too much oil in, obviously! Were you praying hard enough?”

She moaned again. “Nooooo, I forgot to pray!”

“See? Then it's your fault! And this fan won't lift!”

“At least the batter won't stick, though!”

“Yeah, thanks to me!”

Ahiru got bored of fanning the alarm, and since Fakir had managed to get the noisy stove fan to work after a few minutes of fiddling, she didn't need too (not that there was smoke in the first place), so she padded back over to him for the remainder of the cooking time.

“Fakir?” she said tentatively after a while.

“Hmm?”

“I'm sorry I ruined this. I was just… I wanted to make something for you cause you're so important to me,  a-and you make me breakfast all the time… I guess I just wanted to show gratitude, I guess? Cause I really am thankful for everything you do for me. But now it’s a disaster, and I guess it's cause I just suck and am no good at this… I'm sorry you have to put up with me…” She looked away and tried to hold back tears.

“Oh, Ahiru, no.” He turned her head so he could look her in the eye, his face and voice soft and gentle. “First of all, it’s completely my fault for thinking it was a good idea to put the chocolate chips in. Second, I do what I do for you because I love you and you're so important to me, too. I don't want you to feel like you have to repay me, and certainly don't feel like you have to prove your worth or some shit. Please, no. Just be yourself. Relax. Calm down. You have to go out every morning, but I work from home, so it just makes sense for me to cook more than you, right? It's not a hassle, ever. And third… that was honestly the cutest thing I've seen all week.”

She looked up in wonder, throat dry. “I, uh… I don’t know…”

Ahiru trailed off and just pulled him into a hug. “Thank you.”

“It's true,” he said softly. “I-”

His thought process was interrupted by the ringing of the timer. Fakir reluctantly pulled back from Ahiru’s embrace and opened the waffle iron.

“Oh, shit.”


End file.
